The Swelling Stream!
Today a Buzzard leads my pathway – toward the blue-grey billow of cloud,
In the blinding light of stray sun beams – escaping while they are allowed!
A rolling mass to masquerade the sky – bringing darkness as it grows,
A gathering of their multitude – where the Sun no longer shows!
The Male Pheasant trots along the track way – edging up the field,
Seeking out the route to shelter – before his vulnerabilities are revealed!
The Kestrel flies south to flee the scene – the gateway marshalled by a crow,
Returning to the Crow Tree he takes his watch – the Kestrel fades to go!
Upon my arrival I take to the pathway – that leads me to my ease,
Black still berries they hang on the brambles – strangling at the trees!
The Female Pheasant shy’s in the corner and discretely slips away,
A drawn back circle that calls my seating – with the words that come this day!
Steady becomes the flow of rainfall – as I retire to take my lunch,
Drumming up a constant heavy beat – I guess you’d call it brunch!
Quiet learns the art of patience – with the view that’s from the door,
For over an hour persistence continues – with its dancing on the floor!
With the slowing of the rains – the Crows come out to play,
In turns they move at playing chase and its time I was on my way!
With the awaiting Buzzard as my guide – we set off for the rise,
Over the growing roar of the swelling stream – where the wander fills my eyes!